A Pair of Shoes

“Is that your daughter?”

“Yes, I sponsor her.”

“You would let your own daughter wear shoes like that?” Purity smiled at me, ever-delightful even in her boldness. She was an 8^th grader and the leader of the girls at Milton Jones Eagles Academy. My family’s newly sponsored child, Faith, was standing next to me—and to be honest, I was so excited to see her in school that I hadn’t even noticed her shoes. 

The shoes were worn ragged. It was a miracle they could stay on Faith’s feet when she walked. I had sponsored Faith for two weeks before I went to Kenya and she had not yet gotten a pair of new shoes. 

“You should buy your daughter better shoes to wear,” Purity told me, beaming. She was right. 

“I’ll buy her shoes,” I agreed. 

“You should buy your daughter shoes today.”

“Okay, we’ll go today.”

“You should buy her shoes right now.”

“Right now?” 

And that’s how Faith and I ended up sitting hand-in-hand in the back of a crowded matatu on our way to buy new shoes and a school bag. Since then, this trek has been a regular one for us—and it usually involves ice cream now. 

Purity’s bold questions left me speechless. She saw what my culture-shocked eyes did not and she was determined to take a stand for the children in her community. She made me aware of an issue she knew I could fix. Purity should have been a politician. 

That day Faith got a new pair of shiny, black school shoes. And I gained a new perspective. I will always be thankful for the awareness—and the boldness—Purity showed me in 2013.